I was seven or eight. Remembering which rent house we lived in helps put a date on it.
It had been an up and down day. Daddy had been drinking – again – out of work – again – my sister and I were quarreling – again. He’d had enough. Sent us to bed. We fussed. He heard.
Mom came to us. Whispered. “He wants me to spank you. You’re just little girls. I won’t spank you. You must be brave and cry when I tell you to.†Then, as she lovingly tucked us into bed she slapped her own bare legs. “Cry now, girls.â€
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The 100 Word Challenge this week is TUCK. This is written in honor of my mother who suffered unthinkable things at the hands of my father. She protected my younger sister and me many times. This is a true story. My mother was a survivor. I wish I could tell her how much that night meant to me, even though I did not understand it at the time.